Delirium
by Bakura13
Summary: Influence is a very dangerous asset. Its damage can outlive any mortal being and affect those who were swayed by its charm.
1. I

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of Final Fantasy IX… just the game and I still can't find Disc 1.**

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'_Damn it…_' Sharp claws dug into the dirt as a body lay in a crumpled heap in the near darkness.

It hurt so much.

Every muscle and bone ached dreadfully as he struggled to push himself into a sitting position, not liking the feeling of the world breathing on his exposed back. Hissing between clenched teeth, he managed to sit himself up with difficulty, sucking in a painful breath as he stretched out his legs in front of him. He paused for a moment for the flare of pain to subside, his tattered blue robes shifted and dried blood flaked when he leaned back on his hands.

Hurt _too_ much.

Broad wings sat uncomfortably on his back as they sagged slightly; a few feathers missing here, some stiffened from dried blood there while others stuck out at awkward angles.

When he first awoke, he immediately tried to sit up in blind panic; his limp wings attempting to straighten in reaction. One of them erupted with immense pain; part of the wing slightly bent out of shape, causing him to curse loudly, his words bouncing back at him mockingly. It had to be broken, or at least badly sprained.

He didn't know and he didn't care; it just hurt greatly!

Wiping his bloody mouth with the back of his gnarled hand, he glanced around at his surroundings. He noticed, with little help from the dim moonlight that peeked in from the angled hole above, that he was in some sort of room… or pit, he wasn't too sure. The floor beneath him was dirt but slowly his glowing eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. His attention was caught by the glint of metal that was covered in dust and presumably spider webs. He leaned forward and from closer inspection concluded that whatever that contraption was, it hadn't been used in some time yet it puzzled him.

Just where was he?

His mind fuzzily remembered being in some sort of underground room with his one remaining brother, the other having been sent out to his doom, no doubt, and being ordered that he had to go… What was the cursed village…? Dali… and…

And…

…What was it that he was supposed to do?

Something to do with…someone…

His head hurt too much to remember.

What he did know that the villagers must have tossed him down that pit after he…he…

Well he certainly didn't feel dead, that was certain. The agony was solid proof. Maybe he had passed out…

He was disgusted by that thought, a lip curling in revulsion: A grand creature like himself, swooning like some… some… _woman_. He looked nothing of the sort, save for the ridiculously girly robes. _They _had insisted that he wore those cursed robes since tailoring the clothes for him and his younger brother would take some time due to their stature. Unfortunately for him, the final decision was that the outfit was there to stay whether he liked it or not.

Unlike his brothers, his height exceeded them both; at least by a foot and a half for his older brother and by a half for his youngest. He absolutely towered over the guards that were sent to keep watch on their cell door and he relished in their fearful reaction when he leered down at them from full height. They couldn't see his face in the darkness that enveloped it but he was certain they could feel his feral smirk as he watched their stance weaken in terror.

He glanced up at the patch of sky at the top of the pit, thinking for a few moments of his brothers, wondering what had happened to them and where they were. The last time they had all been together was in that dreaded castle basement; where they were using their power against the guards, cackling at the fear shown by their prey. They could not kill them, though. Their masters would not put up with it so they had to settle with heckling the pathetic sentries until they were put to work.

But he had to focus on his present predicament.

Using sheer will alone to force him up onto tender legs, displeased that they all but buckled when he was nearly on his feet, the Black Waltz eyed the darkness before once again glancing up at the hole above him. The top of the rocky pit opened up onto a dark sky scattered with stars and part of the moon that was covered by the grassy rim; a gentle breeze drifted in from above. The Black Waltz paused.

The air seemed different: less heavy. He couldn't put his finger on it but something had drastically changed despite that he stood a few dozen feet underground. How long had he been down there?

The rocks leading up seemed climbable, he could have even attempted to fly up but one of his wings had another sharp rake of pain go through it and he immediately scrapped that idea. That would be his last resort if he could find no way out.

Like hell he was going to lie in the depths of the ground and die.

His clawed hands pawed around blindly until he felt something other than cold stones and dirt— Solid wood with cool metal hinges, slightly rusted from the lack of use and the moisture. He kept feeling until he came to two metal handles and concluded it was one of those fancy double doors that filled the doorways of the castle he was kept in. Giving an experimental push, he was annoyed that the doors refused to move more than half an inch. Bracing his legs slightly and preparing for another onslaught of pain, he dug the toes of his boots into the dirt and threw his all of his weight against the doors.

The rusted hinges creaked in protest of being disturbed as he continued pushing the doors open inch by inch and finally gave way with an unexpected 'whoosh', slamming to a stop from the walls of another underground room. Unfortunately the waltz's body didn't stop until he met the dirt floor once again face-first. That feat of forcing the doors open lashed back at him almost twice as badly than when he first awoke. Every scratch and previously lightly scarred over wounds seemed to reopen at once and let liquid fire into his body. His legs felt as if someone was casting Fira spells without mercy and his claws dug into the dirt floor once again. In the back of his mind he knew this was going to be a recurring problem.

That was his biggest defect, his imperfection, and his flaw.

Yes, his wings were powerful and perfect (rivaled only by his younger brother but he would never openly admit it) and allowed him to fly.

Yes, he stood at an impressive height and his strides were unmatched by anyone that had the unfortunate pleasure of meeting him.

But his legs gave him so much grief if he walked too much, so he preferred to sit or fly to avoid the unbearable pain. He didn't know why they hurt so much but in the past when they ached, and nearly gave out on him, he always became very irritable. Sometimes his irritability forced him to the point of making it his personal task to attempt to broil any poor soul that made even the slightest comment about his imperfection.

His record was currently zero for five. Cursed sentries learned their lessons after a few charred armor plates and kept their mouths shut.

Upon further observation by his creator, he was given tough leather boots with laces that were to give him more support. They made an annoying clicking noise—he had started wondering if his creator really thought he was female—when he walked, muffled by the numerous layers of robes that covered them but it helped if he didn't push his luck… or his legs.

He snarled and pushed himself up again, not letting himself succumb to the agony—that was working hand in hand with gravity—that tried to drag him back to the dirt ground. He stood, swaying slightly as the pain throbbed from nearly every fiber in his body but refused to fall again.

Taking a deep shuddering breath, the Black Waltz took another look at the room he fell into. It was nearly darker than the last room, the weak moonlight from behind him only revealing that the floor met with make-shift wooden flooring that was poorly built. The air felt slightly damp but stifling, a faint smell of oil coming more strongly from his left in the darkness.

He took a few experimental steps forward then stopped.

So far so good, he mused silently.

Starting to walk slowly and carefully, the Black Waltz heard his boots click on the wooden floor. He attempted keep his breaths even through the pain, he took each step carefully, feeling the changes in the air as he ventured further from the previous room. His clawed hands met the cool surface of more metal and the oil stank from the water below. At first he didn't know the gap between the machinery and wooden boards was water but he watched carefully as a dim reflection of the light from the doorway confirmed it.

"Where is this…" He spoke to himself quietly, his eyes narrowing.

Nothing seemed familiar and there seemed to be no further light to disperse the shadows that awaited him. Growling under his breath, he stepped back a few paces before holding one of his arms out in front of him. Unsure of how well his plan would work, he tensed before concentrating on his magic reserve on a low level spell rather than the one he first thought of.

"Fire," He uttered under his breath, feeling heat radiating on the palm of his hand, an orange glow slowly licked at the air from nothing but surely appearing.

He willed the fire to stay where it was, not letting it bolt off and ignite the oil in front of him. Despite feeling weary, he managed to get the fireball to stay put, its glow revealing more of the strange room he was in. He glanced around, unsure whether to go to his left where the oil reeked more strongly or to the right where the air seemed to deaden but was free of the smell. Using his newfound torch as a guide, the Black Waltz resumed his exploring as he saw a doorway to another room. He surmised it must have been some sort of underground passageway or something of the sort.

Abandoned, he silently mused, but for how long?

The boards beneath his feet creaked slightly but refused to answer his noiseless question as he pushed onward. He wrinkled his noise slightly as the oil smell intensified. He passed more silent machinery, unsure if he made the correct choice by going left but amongst the scent, fresh air seemed to be mixed with it. Being wary of anything on the floor that could trip him, the Waltz hurried his steps a bit to find the source of the fresh air. Stepping back on the dirt ground, he observed a stationary conveyor belt that was covered in dust and dirt, leading to his right that ended but faced some sort of wall.

Resuming his slow pace up the slight slope in the ground, the Waltz approached the wall. The glow of the fire spell revealed that at the end of the path there were two large wooden doors, each with handles on them. Suddenly becoming encouraged, the Waltz clenched his hand around the fireball, extinguishing it before steeling up to further agony.

'_If this is a way out of this reeking burrow,_' He thought, '_then it will be well worth it._'

He grabbed the handles of each door, testing to see if they would open inward then scowled slightly when they did not give. He gave an experimental shove at the doors, his scowl deepening in his hidden face when the doors lifted in the slightest before falling back down.

'_Those wretched humans, they have locked me in this place to die!_'

**Kill them.**

An unpleasant dizzying feeling passed through him, shattering his train of thought before anger boiled the blood in his veins. The Black Waltz stepped back, his fists clenched tightly as he glowered at the locked doors ahead of him. He refused to let such pathetic creatures get the best of him by preventing his only least painful escape from the oil-tinted air. His thoughts angrily whirled for a moment, wondering if the villagers had put a lock on the door or covered it with heavy items…or both.

Snarling slightly, the Black Waltz brought both hands above his head, being wary of his horns, dipping further into his magic reserves. He wouldn't let such a primitive invention stop him as he concentrated on a more powerful spell. The pain in his body started to surge into a burning current, as if the spell was being cast inside his body rather than the opposite but the Waltz ignored it.

"Fira!"

Bright flames surged in the palm of his hands in arcs before they were brought to face the obstruction, racing towards the unprotected wooden doors with a roar. Ignoring the embers that strayed to burn elsewhere, the Waltz cast another fire spell to the doors, willing them to open.

**Kill them all.**

He clumsily side-stepped a bit, his posture weakening before his eyes blazed fiercely, quickly regaining his composure.

"You will not stop me, wretched fools! When I escape from his poor interpretation of a prison, I will kill each and every one of you!" He sneered as the doors started to give from the onslaught.

With a final cast, the doors burst open with a roar, flames surging into the night sky as the Black Waltz screeched a cackle regardless of the throbbing pain that threatened to ruin the small victory. An untamed smirk crossed his darkened face as he greedily took in the image of the doors burning, stepping through the flames to emerge onto the ground outside.

"Burn… You will all burn!" He threw his head back and laughed.

He could not remember a time that he felt so in control, so focused on a task that would surely end in victory. His thoughts overrode the pain, tossing it aside as lunacy set in its place.

"Every one of you! Men, women, children!" He spread his arms wide and whirled to face the village that started to stir from the disturbance. "Behold, I, the most magnificent Black Waltz to have ever lived, shall end your lives! Each and every one of you shall burn in hellfire!"

* * *

In the early hours of the morning, a messenger impatiently waited for the boat to cross the sunrise painted waters that linked the city of Alexandria to the castle; almost tempted to jump into the moat and swim the rest of the way. As soon as the prow lined up with the stones, he leapt from the boat and ran as fast as he legs would carry him, breathing hard as he passed some of the Pluto Knights.

"P-please, make way! I have an urgent message for the Queen!" He shouted to any castle guards that didn't move quickly enough.

Queen Garnet sat on her throne in Alexandria Castle, her two guard captains, Beatrix and Steiner, flanking either side of her as she addressed the two of them. Her words were abruptly cut short as the elaborately decorated double doors were quickly shoved open, a messenger running inside the throne room.

"My sincerest apologies for interrupting, Your Majesty! Q-Queen Garnet, I-I have urgent news!" The messenger dropped into a hasty bow before he stood up, sweat soaking his brow and his breathing ragged. "It is in regards of the border village Dali, Your Highness!"

Frowning slightly in wonder, Garnet nodded. "Please, go on."

Sucking in a breath, the messenger fell on one knee once again, keeping his head down as he relayed the message. "T-the village, my queen! I-It… The Village of Dali has been consumed by flames!"

Garnet's eyes widened and she stood up quickly but gracefully, a fist held close to her heart. "It has been attacked?!"

"Yes, Your Majesty!" The messenger paused and nervously looked up at his Queen, his face pale. "The survivors of the village claim their homes were terrorized by a Black Mage!"


	2. II

**II**

**Yay, I have found a gently used copy of FF9 at a vintage videogame store…and it works... I am pleased. Now regarding Vivi's 'children', I'm not sure if they have any official names… So they get random ones as briefly as they appear.**

**Disclaimer: See chapter 1 for disclaimer from now on.**

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Fallen branches snapped unevenly, accompanied by the whisper of robes dragging along the wildly growing grass as a battered and worn figure staggered drunkenly along. Claws slammed into the bark of a tree trunk, sliding forward before digging in as the Black Waltz's form sagged. Sickness had quickly stolen over his body and the constant feeling of his stomach sitting at the base of his throat was unpleasant and unnerving. He had never experienced such a horrible… sensation as what he felt at the current moment. He shut his eyes, head bowing slightly as he took in a slow and deep breath, trying to force the feeling back. He felt drained of energy and his magic reserves felt nearly spent from the previous night's rampage.

He couldn't understand the sudden rush of power and anger that had swept through his body in mere moments, taking control of his actions and caused him to disregard his own wounds and weariness. As exhilarating was it was, it was also starting to become… slightly alarming.

Of course he had been nearly livid at being discarded into a dank and oil-reeking underground passage, left to rot until the end of time. He wanted to exact some sort of revenge for being treated that way but… he didn't know how. Was what he did too much?

Scowling a bit, the Black Waltz opened his glowing eyes and looked at the grass beneath him. He decided that what he did was a just repayment of the treatment he received and the fools deserved it. They had brought it upon themselves for meddling with a Black Waltz.

Satisfied with that conclusion, he straightened up and glanced around at the woods he was in just outside of the smoldering village. The constant noise of chirping birds annoyed him as he continued on his way, heading away from the village and going in a northeasterly direction. He personally had never travelled before but from the depths of his memory, through the smoke and haze of the chaos of the previous night, the vague flash of a map with circled locations came back to him. He was somewhere close to the castle that he was brought up in with his brothers and somewhere within it their master surely was waiting for them.

...Or was he? The Black Waltz grimaced slightly in thought and pain when the toe of his boot caught on a root, causing him to stumble and ignite more searing fire in his veins. Hissing a few short curses, he made sure to pay mind to his path and continued walking.

Their master had insisted that the three brothers would be released from the depths of the castle—Alexandria Castle, that's what it was—and they were to retrieve... someone. It was someone especially important they had to succeed in bringing back and with no harm coming to…her. The name of the girl—yes, he was sure it was a girl—eluded him but the Waltz ignored it for now. That girl was no doubt long gone by now and getting further away from the village was best for his current situation. As much as he would have liked to injure any petty fools that dared to give chase, he preferred to regain some of his strength.

Stepping clear of the fringe of the forest, the Black Waltz flinched back slightly from the sunlight. Scowling a bit, he glanced around, seeing a small mountain with another patch of forest beside it to its right, and the small strip of land on its left before it dropped off. Slightly curious, the Black Waltz started across towards the mountain, after taking a small glance behind a shoulder to verify that he was alone. His eyes kept trailing back to the edge of the cliff, expecting to see something but he couldn't place what was amiss.

The same feeling as when he first tried to gather his thoughts in the underground passage still lingered, something about the air. It seemed…fresher. Of course, being stuck underground could have given the impression that the air outside was unusual but he knew it wasn't his imagination. Still…

Finally reaching the face of the mountain, he paused briefly to look at the sloped path leading higher up the rock face, and then he walked over to the edge of the cliff carefully, looking down… and seeing more land below. Confusion flitted across his hidden features for a moment before he understood.

That awful thing the humans at the Castle kept complaining about… the Mist; it was gone. Not a trace of it remained and the land with forests and winding rivers lay below, unhindered by the murky essence.

The Black Waltz also noticed that the drop was rather… steep and he took a half step further away from the ledge, not wanting to slip and ignored the sickening feeling again. If he was able to fly with uninjured wings, even the depth of the basin seemed a little much for a first try.

…There was a safer way down for the cowardly and weak humans, he was sure of it. Of course, using that path himself wouldn't prove that a grand creature such as himself was weak… he was thinking smart. Unlike those cowardly humans, though he was slightly amused by the thought of humans attempting to climb down the face of the cliff and failing.

Making his way across the thin strip of land around the mountain, the Waltz rounded the bend and frowned to see that the path ended, showing the same steep drop as the other side. Opting to gingerly sit on the ground closer to the rock face, the Black Waltz looked around at the scenery before him.

Somehow all the lack of human activity made the land look so—

The Black Waltz bit out a curse as he sat somewhat straight, his wing having reminded him that leaning against the rock was a bad idea. Grumbling under his breath, he rubbed the side of his face slightly with a hand and looked across the expanse of the forests below. He really hoped he didn't have to walk all the way back to the castle through the trees and the brush and anything else that lived in the annoying forests. With flying out of the question, the journey back could take him days, weeks… and he didn't even know which direction to go in!

"This is ridiculous…" He muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. "I am not lost."

* * *

"Mister Zidane! Mister Zidane!" Small gloved hands tugged on Zidane's arm.

"Hold on a sec—Garnet, doesn't that seem a little weird that the border village got nearly wiped out? I mean they were making the… well, you know, but they stopped all activity last I heard." Zidane felt his arm tugged again then swung idly at his side.

"Mister Zidane…!!" A short black mage pulled on his arm, leaning back with his small weight.

"Hey, watch it little guy! You might actually pull my arm off!" The blonde joked as he turned, giving Garnet a small grin before patting the black mage's hat. "Now what can I do for ya?"

"Uhm…uhm…" The black mage grabbed the rim of his hat with one hand, pulling at it slightly in a familiar manner but not letting go of the Genome's wrist with the other. "Uhmm… Guess what?"

Smiling a little more, Zidane shrugged. "What?"

"You… have to guess!"

"Hmm…" Zidane cupped his chin in thought, looking off slightly. "Is it…raining?"

"No!" The mage giggled.

"Right, it's sunny out… Is it… red?"

"Nooo!"

Shrugging, the Genome looked at the other. "Hmm… I don't know, you're just gonna have to tell me."

"Uhm, uhm… " The mage paused, gripping the edge of his hat with his other hand and looked around to see if anyone else was listening. "Finn saw Mister Rusty and Miss Bea out in the… in the gardeeen…and …and they were… talking. In secreeet!"

"Really?" Throwing Garnet a wink, Zidane put his hands on his hips and looked at the small mage with a serious expression. "They're keeping secrets, are they? Well then, you and your brothers have to keep an eye on them. It could be a matter of castle security! Can I count on you guys to keep me posted in case they decide to elope?"

"Zidane!" Garnet reprimanded but with little heat behind it.

"Yessir! …Uhm… what's elope mean?" The mage squeaked slightly when a hand attempted to ruffle his hat.

"Don't worry about it, I'll tell you later. You guys keep out of trouble, all right? Me and the Queen are having a grown-up conversation right now. If you guys are gonna wander off into town, make sure you tell Rusty. But don't go outside of Alexandria. Even if you find a way to sneak by the guards… don't do it. Promise?"

"Alrighty! Promise!"

Zidane watched as the black mage ran out to find his brothers and he looked back at Garnet. "Looks like they started to get names."

"Do you think they thought them up on their own?" Garnet asked, watching as the door was gently eased shut by one of the guards standing outside.

"Nah… I think that Puck kid was sick of calling them all Vivi Junior. They all seem to like hanging out with him so I wouldn't be surprised. Man, I miss that kid…" Zidane shoved his hands in his pockets. "Have you heard anything from him?"

Garnet shook her head slightly, returning her gaze to Zidane. "No, I haven't. I do hope he's doing all right…"

* * *

Looking up at the climb that awaited him, the second of three Black Waltzes scowled with growing apprehension. There seemed to be a path snaking up the mountain that was used for traveling but as he looked more carefully, there seemed to be a few ledges he had to climb up and a few of the rocks looked questionable. And the climb seemed a lot higher than he initially thought when he first glanced at the mountain path… a little steeper at some parts…

Straightening his back, ignoring a twinge of pain from his injured wings, Two strode forward and began his ascent up the path to the entrance of the Ice Cavern. As he made his way up, he cursed the fact that his wings wouldn't allow him to fly. He hadn't had the time to find anything to help them heal and they were becoming a burden, forcing him to _walk_, of all things.

After a few close-calls by loose rocks sliding under his boots, he managed to find the trouble-areas ahead of time and avoid any additional slip-ups.

"_You must move faster!"_

"_Move faster, you must!"_

The Black Waltz growled under his breath from the familiar echoes that surfaced.

"_The Queen has been waiting!"_

"_Waiting, the Queen should not!"_

He had trouble making a similar climb such as this before… And he had been forced to walk, not allowed to fly from within the depths of the castle… It seemed like such a short time ago…

* * *

"You are not mindless Black Mages!"

"A will of your own you have!"

"So walk quicker!"

"Walk faster!"

A collective growl issued from the trio of newly born Black Waltzes as they made their way up the stairs to the next walkway. A few Alexandrian guards followed in front and behind to keep the newest creations in line, only sparing them a brief glance when they would not cooperate. Ahead of them all were two court jesters, one clad in red and white, the other white and blue, gesturing impatiently for them to hurry from the next path.

"You are so slow! The Queen grows impatient—"

"If she grows any larger, I bet she'll burst." One muttered lowly, having seen their newest 'employer' before the awakening of his second and youngest brothers.

"Such insolence! No respect!" Zorn pointed at the first Black Waltz of three.

"Such slander! Your masters, are we!" Thorn pointed as well.

A guard squeaked and jerked back as midnight blue wings stretched out, nearly falling into her fellow comrade. The third of the Black Waltzes stopped and turned on the stairs, regarding the woman nonchalantly before pointing a clawed finger at her.

"If you value your body in one piece, you lowly soldier, do not walk so close to me!" The hand opened as clawed fingertips started to crackle with faint blue lightning.

"Enough!" Shouted the two jesters as they ran down a few steps.

The spell grew, lightning spitting out in larger arcs before the clawed land was closed in front of the guard's face, extinguishing the thunder spell.

Three learned down, his shadow falling over the guards in front of him, and sneered. "If I catch you follow too close again… I will have you seared from the inside-out!"

Two ignored another angry cry of the jesters as he stood on the stairs, looking up at the climb that still awaited them. He noted with some dismay that the stairs and walkways to where they were being lead continue for some time.

"Brothers," Three turned back to his kin. "Since these vermin are so slow... I think we should let them climb at their own pace."

Thorn stepped down another stair, his eyes narrowing slightly. "What are you planning?"

"Easy for the two of you because you can fly." One growled, looking between his two brothers. "I was not given that privilege…"

"Enough of your whining, One!" Two reached out and grabbed the back of One's shirt, ignoring the undignified yelp as the other's feet left the ground. "You are beginning to sound like those disgusting, weak creatures!"

"Do not even try it!" Zorn waved his arms in frustration.

"Stop them!"

The two youngest of the Black Waltzes cackled as they leapt off of the stairs into the open air, expanding their wings as they eluded the grasps of their captors. They hovered in the center of the underground tower, laughing in glee at the aggravation shown by those still on the stairs.

"Do not treat us as lowly soldiers, you fool! We are Black Waltzes!" Two held up a fist, a feral smirk playing behind the gloom that obstructed his features.

"We are not your pets, we will do what we wish!" Three crossed his arms over his chest.

"I rather walk! Put me down!" One cried, flailing a bit, his wings flapping awkwardly.

"If he so insists, Two, drop him to the depths below and he can walk up from the bottom!" Three sneered, smirking at his oldest brother.

One snarled and reached out with clawed hands. "Wait until I get my hands around your neck, you disrespectful little—"

"The only 'little' around here, is you, dear brother!"Three laughed and flew further up.

"Three! I'll kill you!" One struggled more in vain as the youngest flew further out of his reach.

"You'll soon find the joy in flying , big brother. You'll learn soon enough!" Two lifted One until he had held him with both arms and soared up after the youngest of three.

Racing each other up past the torch-lit walls, Two and Three disregarded the shouts that echoed after them as One clung to the arms that held up from the potential drop that lengthened with each moment. He shut his eyes as Two decided to do a sharp spiral around an obstacle and cursed.

"I hate flying! I hate it, I hate it, I hate it--!!" One squawked awkwardly from the sudden stop of their ascent.

Cracking open an eye, he could see the back of Three hovering in mid-air, looking at something at the top landing. One opened his other eye and looked up, trying to see what the other was looking at and froze when he saw the silver-haired man looking down upon them in what seemed to be amusement.

"My, it looks like my newest creations have decided to fly the nest already."

Two's grip on the oldest Black Waltz tightened slightly from the seemingly unthreatening words, the three of them staying silent. They knew that those words were nothing less than hostile…

"I do hope you remember your manners for the Queen, as she is waiting for her most-prized weapons. Now if you are done your little game, make yourselves presentable and walk with me."

* * *

Two stood at the top of the mountain path, still remembering how that man's words cut with an icy threat behind it when he spoke to the three of them. He shook himself out of reminiscing, noticing that he had indeed made it to the entrance of a cave that… seemed familiar..

Two crossed his arms, thinking for a few moments as glowing eyes examined the entrance of the cave. He took a few steps closer before stopping, an icy gust of air rushing past him and rustling his feathers. His arms over his chest pressed tighter as the chilling air blew past as he resisted the urge to shiver.

He cursed. "There's ice in there…! There must be…! I despise the cold!"

He stalled a bit, glaring at the entrance to the cave then he saw a sign that was haphazardly hammered into a rough patch of soft earth:

**Danger. Do not use Ice Cavern. Ice is collapsing.**

He stared at it for a few moments prior to shifting his gaze back at the entrance of the cave. A growl built up from the depths of his chest and his form trembled in rage.

Snarling, Two stepped forward and held up a clawed first, his wings painfully straightening as hackles would on a beast. "Why must this cursed world torture me?!"


End file.
